Precarious
by MildlyInsane
Summary: Trying to make an arrest against a man suspected of beating and raping homeless boys, Officer Hanson gambles with his own safety to ensure an arrest against their suspect. Having gone off alone with the man without telling his fellow officers, Hanson finds he might have dug himself into a hole too deep to get back out of. Alternate ending to Blinded by the Thousand Points of Light.
1. Chapter 1

**_Summary:_**_ While trying to make an arrest against a man suspected of beating and raping homeless boys, Officer Hanson gambles with his own safety to ensure an arrest against their suspect. Having gone off alone with the man without telling his fellow officers, Hanson finds he might have dug himself into a hole too deep to get back out of. __Alternate ending to Blinded by the Thousand Points of Light. _**_  
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_**xxxxxx**  
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_**I've recently watched the season 3 episode, "Blinded by the Thousand Points of Light," where *SPOILER* the officers go undercover as homeless kids who sometimes prostitute themselves out for money. They are trying to find a missing kid who they fear was assaulted by the same guy who assaulted other local homeless kids in the past. At the end, Tom Hanson finds the guy - he knows it's him because of his vehicle. (Hanson gets into the guy's car and goes with him someplace - maybe an apartment - and then arrests the him, but not before the guy acts really creepy and it is implied he was going to beat Tom with this baton thing he had on him... Probably just like what he did to Aaron - the kid who all the cops were trying to find) **_

_**Anyway, I thought it might be interesting to write an alternate ending to that scene, where things don't go so smoothly... After all, Hanson was all by himself - seemingly none of his fellow officers even knew where he was going, so things could have potentially worked out much more horribly. It may seem odd, but I like having my favourite characters get themselves into serious trouble - mostly so my other favourite characters can make everything better... (that's where the brother/father figure characters come in...)**_

_**I'm so sorry this intro is so long... I just wanted to make sure people knew which episode I was talking about - and maybe people who haven't seen it could still understand what's going on. I'll shut up now: **_

_**xxxxxx**_

Tom was scared. In fact he was absolutely terrified. Of course, he always was when he was working on cases like this. Putting himself into dangerous positions was sometimes necessary if he wanted to catch his suspects. Now it was just a matter of if his dangerous plan was going to work or not. His badge had the potential to save him in an instance such as this, but it also had the potential to get him killed. Timing was everything in moments like these. He had found the man he and his fellow officers had been looking for. Now he just needed to wait for the right moment to arrest him.

Hanson was normally excellent at timing, and at out-thinking the people he was arresting. On a normal day, he'd have known exactly when to pull out his gun and badge. He wouldn't have hesitated at all. But normally he was working with high school kids, in the relative safety of a school. Not this time. This time he was working in the cold, dangerous streets, and he was face to face not with a drug peddling seventeen year old kid, but with a man who had to be at least fifty years old - who was almost definitely guilty of beating and raping teenaged boys. There was a reason Tom didn't work out great on the regular police force. Older people didn't take him seriously, and they were much more intimidating than teenagers.

He could see the way this man looked at him, and of course he knew what the guy's intentions were. Even if he didn't beat other boys to a pulp, he still had just blatantly offered to pay Tom for sex... And for all this man knew, Tom was a teenager. He certainly looked like one; his job depended on it.

The guy had even made a remark about how the officer looked just like his son. That was what haunted Hanson the most right now. This guy was specifically seeking out boys who looked like his own child, to have sex with them, and then beat them nearly to death. Was this man's son even still alive? Had this sickening old man done the same things he was doing to these other boys to his own son as well?

Tom wasn't sure what he had been thinking, but for some reason he'd let this guy take him all the way back to an apartment building. Instead of just arresting him in his car, Tom still acted out his role - a teenaged homeless boy willing to do just about anything for some quick cash. Maybe it was because they had put so much effort into finding this guy that Tom didn't want to risk scaring him off. Maybe somewhere in the back of his mind he feared that if he arrested the guy while they were still in the man's car, the old man would push Tom out the door and speed off, never to be seen in this town again... He couldn't say exactly, but now he found himself standing in a cold, dimly lit room, with his back toward his suspect.

The pedophile had instructed Tom to turn around for some unknown, but likely insidious reason, and Tom had refused, telling the man he didn't turn his back on anyone. His refusal was in part to keep up his character, but he said those words also out of fear. Turning his back on this guy probably wasn't that great of an idea... But a few moments later, when the guy took a few steps away, against Tom's better judgement, the young officer made himself more vulnerable on purpose, consciously turning his back on the man in order to entice him to try something.

Again, he wasn't quite thinking straight, and though he had good intentions, his actions weren't what many other officers would consider wise. Making a gamble like this could pay off big, or it could get him killed. As scared as he was about turning his back on this man, Tom knew it was the best way to go forward with his plan. This case was important, and he didn't want to mess it up. He didn't want to arrest the guy and then not have anything to pin on him... So he figured if he could make himself a target, he could catch the guy in the act of trying to do to Tom what he did to the other boys. The fact that the guy was trying to pick up a prostitute was enough to arrest him, but Hanson wanted more. He wanted this guy to pay for what he'd done to those poor kids. He didn't want the old man to claim he never thought Tom was a minor and get off with a slap on the wrist. He needed something big - some evidence other than what type of car the man drove to tie him to the beatings and rapes of the homeless boys.

As best as he could, Tom Hanson listened to the creaking floorboards behind him. He needed to time this exactly right - to pull his gun in time so that the man would be caught doing something incriminating. Hanson gripped his gun in his right hand but kept it hidden away in front of his body where the suspect couldn't see it.

The floorboards were creaking very softly as the man walked up behind him. He was walking too slow. He might not even have even had a weapon or anything. Maybe walking was all he was doing... If Tom were to bust him now when he wasn't even really a threat, they might not be able to convict him on the other charges. What little rock solid evidence Tom had against the guy simply wouldn't suffice; he needed just a bit more. This moment was crucial. Hanson could ruin this case right now if he didn't play it right.

Slow, steady breathing could barely be heard by the officer. The man behind him seemed calm. Maybe he wasn't going to try anything after all...

But that hope was dashed as soon as it entered Tom's mind. Seemingly out of nowhere, the man's snail pace quickened. He went from slow, almost tip-toeing, to what could almost be described as a lunge. Tom tried to spin around and push his gun in the guy's face, but he felt a sharp, terrible pain in his back before he could turn completely around. Something solid smacked him, hard. It almost felt like the guy had hit him with a baseball bat. Before Tom could even think, he had not only lost his grip on his gun, but had fallen down halfway onto the floor, and halfway against the wall.

Breathing was no longer coming easy. All Tom could think about was the excruciating pain radiating from his back, and the fact that the man who had issued that pain was grabbing him by his arms and hauling him up off the floor and across the room.

Groaning in pain, Tom struggled to free himself from the man's iron grip, "Wait!" Tom gasped as the man dragged him roughly across the floor and over near a bed on the other side of the room. The guy might not have looked like much at first glance, but he was proving his physical strength now. The fact that he was clearly at least fifty-some years old had lead Hanson to foolishly assume he wouldn't be so strong. But now that Tom was scuffling with the man, the officer realized just how thick the guy's arms were. It was no wonder he was able to overpower so many young kids. Perhaps the kids being homeless, tired, and malnourished had little to do with this guy's success in beating them senseless.

Tom reached up and groped at the hands on him, but his attacker had a good grip and barely acknowledged the young cop's struggles. He dropped the officer in the corner made by the bed and the wall, so that Tom was on the floor, his wide eyes fixed on his assailant as he tried desperately to regain a steady breathing pace as well as some amount of control over this situation. The middle-aged suspect stared down at Hanson, his eyes full of some emotion Tom couldn't quite place, but that terrified him nonetheless.

At this point, Tom wasn't sure what he should do. He could tell the guy he was a cop, and that might scare him off. Or it might make him more angry. Did the man even realize Tom had been holding a gun? It didn't seem so. The gun still lay on the floor across the room where the officer had dropped it. Tom supposed it might be wisest for him to keep up his act for a little while longer - until he was able to get back to his gun. As long as this guy didn't know Tom was a cop, he'd have no reason to kill him, and no reason to look for the officer's gun.

"You really do look a lot like him," the man smiled sickeningly down at his prey. He sounded a bit out of breath, not from being tired, but from being excited, "your hair's even a god-awful disaster, just like his..."

Hanson stared up at him. The cop was still in pain, and was still putting a lot of his focus on keeping breathing. He was certainly not in a good position right now. The old man held a short black stick in his hand. It looked like the kind of baton a prison guard would be issued. That's what he'd hit Tom with. No wonder it hurt so much. But Tom knew the guy wasn't through yet. The homeless boys who were almost definitely all victims of this man's rage were said to have been beaten quite badly. This guy wasn't in the business of just hitting his victims once and then letting them go. He seemed to truly hate the boys he picked up, the boys who resembled his son so closely, and he didn't hold back much of his hatred when he had the kids in his clutches.

The man bent down slightly and reached toward Tom's face, as though he planned on caressing the officer's cheek. But Tom wasn't going to just sit back and allow that. Maybe if the guy hadn't hit him... and he still needed to keep up his persona... Even a boy who sold his body for money wouldn't allow someone to assault him and then still have their way with him.

The officer reached up and swatted the man's hand away, "deal's off," Tom growled, moving to stand. Maybe if he acted as though he was no longer interested in the man's money, the guy wouldn't put up a fight when Tom tried to leave.

Maybe not...

Hanson cried out as he felt another strike from the baton, this time over his ribs. He couldn't help but fall backward and raise his hands up in defense, "Stop!" Tom managed to hiss in a pained gasp. But the man found it necessary to beat the poor young man down a bit more.

Tom pushed himself back further into the corner as the baton connected with his shoulder, just as hard, if not harder, than the previous two strikes.

When the man hit him yet again, Tom knew he'd have to fight back. If he didn't do anything, the guy would just beat him until he passed out. His time to act was now. He moved to stand, pushing himself up off the floor with one hand and grabbing out toward the older man's weapon with his other. He felt a sharp smack to his hand, which caused him to recoil back. The man swung his weapon yet again, hitting Tom in the stomach, and then again, hitting his cheek below his left eye.

Tom brought his hand up to his now-bruised cheek as he continued to struggle to get himself away from the man who was assaulting him. But he had nowhere to go, and was becoming increasingly weak as the suspect continued striking him with the baton again and again, all over Hanson's body. With each additional strike of the baton, Hanson found it harder and harder to keep himself standing and to keep himself breathing, and was finding that fighting off the guy just wasn't going to be an option. Having all of his fingers broken wasn't going to help him at all.

That was all Tom could take. He couldn't keep fighting with the man hitting him in such sensitive areas as his face and stomach, and he was pretty sure some of his fingers were broken. So he raised his arms up over his head and backed away from the man. He'd rather have bruised forearms than a broken jaw or a concussion, "please, stop!" he breathed a shaking breath as he turned his body so that he was half-facing away from the man. As much as he didn't want to turn his back on the guy, he also didn't want his stomach or face to be hit again.

But the man struck him again, this time on his back. Tom fell forward onto the bed and proceeded to try to crawl over it and away from his captor. But his entire body ached, and he barely made it half-way over the mattress before the cruel man struck him again and his limbs gave out, causing him to collapse onto the bed.

He felt the man grabbing him and turning him over onto his back. Tom just lay there and stared up at the man's eyes as he tried to catch his breath. He could try to fight back again, but that hadn't worked out so well last time. So instead, he just waited to see what would happen. His captor wasn't hitting him anymore; maybe holding still was his best bet right now.

"My son is so aggravating," the guy began to explain, "never listens to a damn thing I say... He's defiant, a smart ass, thinks he knows everything... Sometimes I want to just beat the living hell out of him. I could do it too... easy. He's just a kid, like you, young, attractive, skinny... vulnerable... I could do whatever I wanted to him, technically... I mean, I'm able, but I mustn't really. He'd tell his _mommy_... Or the cops... You boys on the street aren't like him. No one cares about you. You tell the cops someone beat the hell out of you, and what are they gonna say? They're gonna ask you what you were doing with a middle aged man in the first place. And you're gonna tell them you were whoring yourself out. And they're going to arrest you."

Tom shook his head, "That's not true..." he breathed out in a pained, shaking breath, "You can't beat someone up just because they're breaking the law too... And you're the one having sex with under-aged boys. You really think the cops are going to arrest a teenager who's being molested by creeps like you, just because he okayed it? You can't have sex with children, no matter what they say. They can't consent."

That earned him another harsh strike from the baton. This blow landed against his thigh. It didn't hurt as bad as the others, but it was still enough to make him wince and squeeze his eyes shut.

"You're not telling anyone about this," the man growled, bringing the baton down and pressing it horizontally against Tom's throat. He pressed it downward, choking the young officer in the process, "you understand?"

Hanson grabbed at the baton and tried to push it off himself, but had no success, "yes," he choked, but the man didn't let up. Tom's eyes widened in fear. He couldn't breathe, "please!" he begged as he tried to suck some air into his lungs. It didn't seem like the guy was going to relent any time soon, so Tom finally just kicked out as hard as he could. He felt his feet connecting with the man's legs, and the guy finally pulled his baton back away from the officer's throat. But he wasn't through. He raised the firm object up again and proceeded to hit Hanson with it again and again, hitting any part of the poor officer's body that he could.

Meanwhile, Tommy curled in on himself, raising his hands over his head again and trying to shield anything important with his own arms and legs. He couldn't even plead any longer. Even breathing was difficult enough. He wondered if this man was planning on killing him. If he didn't do so on purpose, he might just do it on accident...

**_xxxxxx_**

**_Please leave me a review and let me know what you think. Your reviews are one of my favourite things about writing and submitting things on this website. They drive me to publish more (unless the reviews are negative, in which case they'll either drive me to improve, or make me cry, depending on how truthful and/or harsh they are...) So anyway, please tell me how you feel about this chapter, and I'll either keep doing what I'm doing, or try to fix anything I'm doing wrong. :)  
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	2. Chapter 2

_**Hiya. First off, I want to thank everyone who reviewed my previous chapter, and I'd like to answer a question left in one of my reviews by someone without an account. I have replied to the rest of you individually, so don't feel left out! I love and appreciate you all.**_

_**The question was: have I published this elsewhere? The answer is no, I haven't. I started writing it a couple months ago and then forgot about it for a while, but it's been on my computer only, not published anywhere. I may have mentioned it to a couple people, or maybe in an author's note of my previous story, but not in great detail... I do know there's another story on this site with a somewhat similar plot. (an alternate ending to the same episode.) but I assure you my version is completely different. :)  
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_**Alright then, on with the story!  
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Chapter 2

Tommy was completely out of breath and could barely even bring himself to move at all anymore. Every inch of his body throbbed in pain from having been hit repeatedly with the baton-like weapon brandished by his assailant. By this point, Hanson wasn't sure if he could stand even if his captor allowed it. It didn't feel like his limbs were broken, but just like he was so worn out and beaten down that his arms and legs likely would no longer be willing or able to function. He was quite certain his entire body was covered in the most painful bruises he'd ever experienced.

At the moment, he was lying in a curled up position on the bed as the older man stood over him and stared down at the injured officer. Hanson wasn't looking at the guy's face, but could feel the older man's eyes gazing down at him. He heard his captor place the baton on the night stand, but Tom still didn't move. He was scared to make any movement at all, afraid it might set the man off again. Even now that the older man was unarmed, Tommy knew overpowering him would be impossible. The officer's body felt so weak and broken. He felt like all he could do was just lie there and try to keep himself breathing through his tremendous pain. If just breathing was this difficult, overpowering this guy certainly wasn't going to happen.

"Let's get you out of that jacket," the man cooed. His voice sounded kind and gentle, but Tom knew better than to believe any kindness in the man's tone, and he certainly wasn't open to allowing the guy to start undressing him.

Tom curled in on himself even further as he felt the man grabbing onto his arms and trying to pull him out of the ball he'd formed out of himself. He didn't want to fight anymore. It was pretty obvious his refusal to cooperate would only result in more pain. If he did much else to make the man angry, Tom would likely end up dead. He needed to save what little energy he had left for one last attempt to save himself, and he needed to wait until an opportunity presented itself before he did that.

Even though his instincts told him to fight with all his might, to keep himself curled up and his jacket over his arms and torso, he knew it would be a waste of his depleted supply of energy. He lie quite limply, unable to find the physical strength to fight back as the older man finally untangled Tom's limbs, pulled his jacket off him, and threw it onto the floor, leaving Hanson's torso covered only in his two layers of shirts he had left half unbuttoned on purpose. Now he wished he hadn't done that... His chest was half-exposed, and his captor stared down at him as though the younger man was the most amazing thing he'd ever seen. The old man's eyes looked way too excited. It made Tom's stomach churn.

"You really are a pretty little thing," the older man smiled as he straddled the young officer and used his hand to brush a few strands of Tom's hair out of his eyes.

Tom squeezed his eyes shut and concentrated on breathing. He felt so defeated. How could it be that he wasn't even restrained and yet this man had so much power over him? Tom wasn't sure he'd be able to force his body over to the door even if this man told him he was free to go. He couldn't say for sure if any of his bones were broken, but his body was certainly bruised, and he was beyond exhausted. This was probably exactly what the man's plan was. He wanted a victim who wouldn't fight back, but who was still conscious. And judging by how Tommy felt right now, it seemed the guy knew how to achieve that result. The officer could only lie still and force himself to take one pained, shaking breath at a time.

The older man ran his fingers slowly down the side of Tom's face, over his throat, and down to the part of his chest exposed by his unbuttoned shirt. At this, Tom's breath hitched in his throat and he forced his arms to start working again.

He grabbed weakly at his captor's hands and attempted to push them away, "don't," Tom gasped. Something about the man's warm, rough finger tips lightly grazing over Tom's skin was a thousand times worse than the beating he'd dished out a few moments before.

The older man just laughed, "you look like you're gonna cry," he commented as he looked into Tom's eyes, "Aren't you used to this? You let me beat the hell out of you without shedding a tear, but I touch your chest and that's what makes you lose it? You'd think a whore wouldn't mind that gesture so much..."

Tom felt his throat tightening as he tried to keep himself calm, "I don't want to do this anymore... You don't have to pay me," Tom tried to come to an agreement with the guy. Of course, Tom would arrest the man as soon as he could get his hands back on his gun, but the guy didn't have to know that. "We'll part ways and forget any of this ever happened," Hanson suggested.

Hanson's captor shook his head, "I don't think so. You can't get me all excited and then just flake out on me," he touched Tom's face again, mocking compassion. Hanson could feel the man's rough fingers slowly caressing his cheek. He was being gentle now, but Tom wanted nothing more than to get away from the guy's touch. He'd rather the man hit him again than touch him like that, with that look in his eyes, "don't be scared," the man added in a calm voice, "I won't hit you again as long as you cooperate. You seem subdued enough, so the worst part's over for you. No more pain. Just sex now. And you should be used to it. Hell, a pretty little boy like you? You've probably been used so many times you won't even feel it at this point."

Hanson shook his head. He wasn't sure what to say, "I -" he hesitated, "You can't... I don't... I'm not..." Tom couldn't find the proper words.

The older man's eyebrows rose, "what's that?" he grinned, "you _can't_?" he mocked in a higher pitched voice, "you're _not_? You're not _what?_," Hanson could see the man's eyes lighting up with realization, excitement, and lust, "are you saying you haven't done this before? Am I your first customer?"

Tom's breathing increased in rate. Maybe he should tell this guy he was a cop after all... But then he'd probably lose any chance he had at reclaiming his gun... It was all a gamble, "I'm not... I'm just..." he stuttered, "I was just looking for my friend... Someone saw him get into a car like yours," Tommy decided on a half-truth, "I don't work the streets... I was just looking for him and thought this was my best bet at finding him..."

"Doing a little investigating?" the man laughed, "well, I guess now's as good a time as any to teach you the lesson that you don't pretend to be a hooker and go so far as getting into people's cars... Your parents never taught you any better?"

"No," Tom shook his head again, "you don't understand..."

"Yes I do," the man looked down at him, "you changed your mind. I get it. But it's too late. I don't really care about consent, and as you said before, you're a teenager. You can't consent anyway. You could tell me to fuck you as hard as I wanted and it would be the same as if you begged me not to, right?"

Tom opened his mouth to speak again, to continue pleading, but a large hand immediately clamped down over his mouth so that all he could do was whimper.

"That's enough out of you," the man scowled. With his free hand, he trailed his fingers from Tom's chest down his stomach and to the waistband of his jeans.

Even through the man's thick, calloused fingers, a small sound could be heard coming from Hanson's mouth. He reached his hands down and grabbed at the older man's hand. But most of Tom's strength had left him. Even with both of his hands, he couldn't pull the man's one hand away from him. He could feel the rough fingers sliding into his jeans, between the elastic of his boxers and his skin.

The man's fingers stroked the skin between Tom's hip bone and his navel for a moment, slowly and gently. His hand wasn't far enough under Hanson's clothing to make the officer feel too uncomfortable, but being even as close as he was to body parts Hanson considered private frightened the young cop tremendously.

Finally, the man moved his hand off of Tommy's mouth and down toward where his other hand lingered. He unbuttoned the button on Tom's pants and smiled down at him, "you're gonna like this."

Hanson shook his head, "you can't do this," he pleaded, still grabbing at the man's hands with his own, "please..." He tried to kick out his legs but they were being pinned against the bed by his captor's larger legs. Hanson even tried to sit up, but his assailant just pushed him back down. The older man being bigger and stronger than Hanson, combined with the fact that Tom was incredibly beaten down made his struggles all but completely worthless.

The officer tried to sit up again, but the older man just laughed again as he placed his calloused hand on Tom's chest and slammed him backward onto the mattress. As Hanson weakly tried to pull together the strength to try to sit back up again, his captor pulled the zipper down on Tom's jeans and pulled the officer's pants downward. Fortunately, Tom's boxers stayed mostly in place even when his jeans were now half-way down his thighs.

Tom could feel himself beginning to panic. Of course, he was rather panicked all along, but now it was far worse, and with very good reason. The older man's hands grabbed the officer's legs, his fingers squeezing lightly over the material of Tom's boxer shorts as he ran his hands slowly up and down Hanson's thighs, completely ignoring the fact that Tom's hands continued to fight him.

Just when it seemed he was doomed, Hanson felt the familiar rush of adrenaline; the same rush he'd get all the time whenever he was in a situation that was extremely dangerous. It was his body telling him he needed to do whatever it took to get the hell out of this mess.

The adrenaline now coursing through Tom gave him the extra burst of energy he so desperately needed. As the grotesque man's rough hands moved back up toward the top of Tom's boxers, and the tips of his fingers slid under the elastic band of the shorts, the young cop balled his hands into fists and punched the older man in the face as hard as he could.

While that threw the older man off balance for a moment, Tom slammed his other fist into the other side of the man's face until he finally staggered backward enough for Tom to jump up and stumble quickly toward the place he'd dropped his gun.

Fortunately, the unexpected blow he'd landed to the man's cheek gave him the few seconds he needed. Hanson grabbed up his gun in his right hand and pulled up his pants as best as he could with just his left hand as he spun back around and pointed the weapon at his captor, "I'm a police officer," Tom breathed out tiredly, ignoring the shooting pains radiating through his protesting body. He was pumped with adrenaline right now, but that didn't change the fact that all his body wanted to do was fall into a crumpled heap to recover from the abuse inflicted upon him by the other man, "don't move..." Tom panted, "You're under arrest."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" the man wondered, "you're just a kid..."

"A kid with a badge," Tommy reached for his badge, but remembered it was in his jacket pocket, and that jacket was on the floor across the room, "and a gun," he emphasized as he inched along the wall toward a phone. He put the phone up to his ear, tilting his head and wedging it between his ear and his shoulder as he dialed the police station. While the phone rang, he kept his gun trained on the older man, "don't you move one inch," he insisted, "I'm not messing around. You move toward me at all, and I won't hesitate to shoot you."

"Captain Fuller," Tom breathed a sigh of relief when he heard the familiar sound of his captain's voice on the other end of the phone.

"I found the guy... I need backup," Tom breathed heavily into the phone, assuming his captain would know what he was talking about without him having to give much explanation. He felt the adrenaline slowly dissipating. Now that he wasn't in so much danger, his body was remembering how hurt it was, "Jefferson street..." he remembered having taken note of the address when he was in the man's vehicle, just in case he needed to call in for backup, "at Pinegrove Apartments, apartment twenty six..." he tried to keep his voice strong, but he was in a lot of pain and felt quite weak, "try to hurry," he added.

"What's going on there, Hanson?" Fuller asked, his voice laced with worry "I'm sending Penhall and Hoffs. Ioki's radioing them right now. I think they are already in the area. Is there anything they should know? Is he armed? Are you hurt? What happened? You've gotta let me know what's going on."

Hanson breathed out tiredly, "He's not armed... Just tell them to hurry. I've got my gun on him right now. I'm just not sure I can cuff him. I want to keep my gun on him..." Tom wanted to tell Fuller that he had made a huge mistake going with this guy, especially alone. He wanted to tell his captain that he felt like he could pass out at any moment... But he couldn't say those things for so many reasons. He didn't want the suspect to hear how uncertain the officer was - to see how close he was to fainting. And he didn't want Fuller to think he couldn't take care of himself.

"Are you alright, Tom?" Fuller's voice sounded even more concerned now, "you sound really out of breath."

"I'm fine," Tom insisted as he kept his gun raised up and stared at the older man before him. The young cop offered the older man a stare that said 'don't you dare move,' without his mouth having to reiterate that statement, "how long do you think they'll take to get here?" he asked, leaning his back against the wall and sliding down it slightly. Even as he did this, he kept his gun trained intently on his suspect.

"It shouldn't be long," Fuller answered, "are you sure you're okay? He didn't hurt you, did he? Do you need me to send an ambulance?"

Tom's focus wasn't on his captain's voice anymore. Instead he stared ahead at the laughing man in front of him, "shut up!" he urged as he slid down the wall the rest of the way so that he was sitting, but still had his gun trained on the older man. He raised his knee up and used it to steady his shaking arm as he continued pointing his gun ahead, "don't you dare move," he repeated his earlier threat, "I should just shoot you right now," Tom growled. He wouldn't really shoot the man without proper reason. The guy didn't exactly pose a threat right now. He was just standing there. But Tom wanted the man to think the officer just might shoot him without justified cause.

"Take it easy, _officer_," the man laughed again, raising his hands defensively, "I'm just standing here. Not moving. Just like you said."

Tom just glared at him. He felt so exhausted, and wasn't sure he'd be able to stay conscious until Doug and Judy got here. Already his vision was obstructed by cloudy spots and he felt very lightheaded. He knew if he stood up he'd probably pass out for sure. Maybe just sitting down would be enough to keep him awake until his backup arrived.

"Tom," he heard Fuller's voice coming from the phone. It seemed really quiet, "Tom? Hanson... Are you there? Answer me, Tom..."

It was then that he realized the phone had slipped away from him at some point. It was just hanging by its cord, dangling against the wall. He reached out and grabbed it, putting it up against his ear as he kept his eyes and gun on the older man in front of him.

"I'm still here," Tom said into the phone. He could hear the exhaustion in his own voice.

"I've called for an ambulance," Fuller told him, "I'm not sure what's going on there, because you won't tell me, but there will be an ambulance there in a few minutes. Whatever's going on, Hanson, we're going to make sure you're okay. Just stay on the line with me until Hoffs and Penhall get there, okay? And if anything happens, let me know. If he produces a weapon or anything..."

"Thanks, Coach," Hanson breathed heavily as he felt his eyelids becoming heavy.

Holding the gun up was becoming increasingly difficult. Even with his knee raised up to support his arm, his hand was trembling. His entire body still hurt.

"I've got backup coming," Hanson informed the man standing before him. He was trying so hard to keep his voice strong and certain, "They'll be here any minute. There's nothing you can do now," he threatened. He knew the man must have been able to see how hurt Tom was. The guy was the one who'd hurt him - so he had to know. But he also needed to know that he wasn't going to get away with it this time.

"You think you're going to last that long?" the old man laughed.

"Hanson. You still doing okay?" Tom heard his captain's voice.

"I'm fine," he answered into the phone, but stared at the criminal before him. He knew he was lying to both men. Hanson could feel his consciousness slipping away. His vision was growing more and more cloudy. His body was becoming more and more limp. He felt cold and warm at the same time. Or maybe the sensation was neither of those things. It was almost a numb feeling.

Tom could feel his grip on his gun loosening and his arm trembling as he struggled to keep his weapon aimed. He wanted to squeeze the gun tighter and hold it up in a strong, steady, threatening gesture, but he simply could not do so. With each passing second, he felt his body giving up. It just wanted to shut down, to heal itself. He wished he could explain to his body that staying alert was its best bet, but his brain and his body were simply not listening to each other.

More and more, he could barely focus on what was going on around him. As he stared ahead, with blurring vision at the man in front of him, he felt the phone sliding away from his ear again and clattering against the wall, but he didn't move to retrieve it this time.

He could hear Fuller's worried voice calling out to him through the phone, but he didn't have the energy to deal with that and the gun at the same time. In fact, he probably didn't have the energy for either. He just hoped Judy and Doug would get here soon...

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	3. Chapter 3

_**Hello again, everyone. :) I'm glad to see you back for another chapter, and I hope you like it as much as you liked the previous ones, or maybe even more. Thank you for your reviews and for coming back and reading more. You're the best!**_

_**I've named the suspect Harvey. I remember he seemed kind of old, and that seems like kind of an old man name. I also wanted to tell this chapter in his point of view-ish (third person though) and wanted him to have a name, instead of just calling him "he," "the man," "the suspect," or whatever other vague nouns and pronouns I've been using. I hope this chapter isn't too creepy... It does, after all, let you see a bit of what this guy is thinking, and he's not thinking nice things... **_

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Chapter3

Harvey stared downward at the young man slumped against the wall in his second apartment. He'd rented this apartment specifically to do things he wouldn't want his family, friends, neighbours, or co-workers to know about. That's why it was so run-down, and located in such a bad part of town. No one here knew him; no one who knew his family or where he worked would gossip about seeing him with a different teenaged boy every week and wonder what on earth he was up to. This place wasn't his home. It was just a cheap, private location where he could carry out his fantasies without anyone ever knowing. And his fantasies happened to include sex with young boys.

He didn't know why he desired to do these things, and he knew he probably shouldn't, but once he did it the first time, he just couldn't stop. He sought out boys who looked like his son, because it was he who Harvey really wanted, but he knew he could never get away with it. His smart-ass son would tell someone, and then Harvey's reputation would be ruined. So he found the next best thing - homeless teens who were scared to go to the cops for the most part. And if any of them did go to the cops, the police probably brushed them off like the scum they were. No one cared about dirty homeless kids who'd probably rob you the first chance they got. They didn't hold much credibility.

It worked out perfectly, really. Harvey got what he wanted without his son tattling on him, and for only a small price. He had money to spare, and even let the boys keep it at first, but soon he found he rather enjoyed roughing them up a little, and then a lot, and then to the extent where he could just dump them off somewhere when he was done, and there was nothing they could do about him getting their service and keeping his money too. Harvey knew he'd gone too far, but he was past the point of no return. He couldn't take back what he'd done, and he liked doing it. He was already too far gone, so he figured he might as well just keep doing what he loved.

He'd thought he had struck gold when he saw this boy standing up against the adult video store. He had looked desperate for money, and resembled Harvey's son, just like the older man liked. Even in his mannerisms... The boy was defiant, made smart ass comments to the things Harvey said... He slouched, seemed disinterested in everything... He had messy hair that hung in his face, was dressed in dirty, ratty clothing... Just the kind of little brat Harvey wanted to slap around a little bit. He was young and attractive enough to satisfy Harvey's sexual desires, and seemingly defiant enough to deserve to be smacked a few times. He was perfect.

But things hadn't quite worked out as they should have. The kid was actually a cop. He seemed impossibly young, but it seemed he was telling the truth. The boy was even armed with some sort of gun, and had it aimed at Harvey and threatened to shoot him if he made one more move. He'd even called for backup. But he didn't look to be doing so well right about now. Harvey had hit him with his usual weapon many times before the kid finally managed to gain the upperhand on him, and his poor little body seemed to be remembering that right now.

Before the officer had stepped up and finally escaped the older man's grasp, he had been looking pretty defeated. His body was beaten and bruised, and he seemed like he could barely even manage to lift his arms. It must have been fear, panic, and adrenaline that pushed his body past its own limits for just those few seconds he needed to regain control.

The kid's control over the situation seemed to be leaving him now. He was in a sitting position, with one knee raised up as a sort of steadying mechanism for his arm as he held the gun up in a shaking hand. He'd had the phone up to his ear until recently, but holding the gun and the phone at the same time must have been too much for him. Now it was hanging from the receiver by its cord... Just dangling against the wall next to the young officer as he stared ahead with somewhat unfocused looking eyes. He was fighting a battle with unconsciousness, and he was losing.

Harvey contemplated saying something snarky - taunting the kid, but if he could keep the boy feeling relatively safe, maybe his body would give up more easily. The only reason he'd probably stayed alert this long was because he was so scared. Some of Harvey's victims passed out in the past, and some of those boys hadn't even been beaten as badly as this one. This one was strong. He fought back harder than the others. Of course, he had the benefit of having a gun...

After what felt like ages, the gun finally slipped out of the boy's fingers and clattered to the ground. The clattering sound was followed by what could only be described as a panicked whimper. For a brief second, fear flashed through the kid's eyes, but it didn't take long at all before those eyes drooped closed and his body became completely limp.

Harvey rushed over to him as quickly as he could, grabbing up the gun while he still had the chance and then looking down at him. What was he going to do now? He had the gun... So he was kind of in charge again, but he knew there were other cops on their way. And these cops knew his address. Maybe not his home address, but he'd rented this apartment under his own name. They'd find him. He'd already assaulted the officers. There was no way he was going to walk away from this a free man. Maybe Harvey could still deny hurting the other boys, but he wasn't going to get away with this one. He was screwed, so the way he saw it, he might as well just do whatever he wanted to the young officer... What more could they charge him with that wasn't already on his plate by this point?

As he squatted down in front of the kid, Harvey stuffed the cop's gun in his back pocket. He'd probably need it later, depending on what course of action he decided upon pursuing once the other cops arrived - he'd need it pretty soon actually. How long would the cops take when coming to the aid of one of their own? Likely not long at all...

The phone still dangled next to them, and the frantic tone of a voice could be heard coming from it. Without even bothering to listen to what the other man had to say, Harvey grabbed the phone and hung it up. He didn't have time to listen to some cop try to talk him down.

He looked the boy over. The cop had a cut under his eye, and a bruise was forming there as well. Harvey put his fingertips to the boy's cheek and traced the injury. It gave him great satisfaction to know he was the cause of this blemish. Even if this kid really was a police officer, even if he wasn't just a cocky teenager, he was still young, still thought he knew everything, and still deserved this. What kind of a worthless little runt worked as an undercover cop, just waiting to trick people like this? And what did he expect to happen to him when he was pretending to be a prostitute, all by himself?

Harvey had seen this guy around the video store day after day, and he was usually all alone. The idiot was just asking to get raped, killed, or both. In fact, he was lucky he'd lasted this long before someone like Harvey found him and took advantage of his vulnerability. Even if he was a cop, and even if he was armed with a gun, he was still putting himself in a very dangerous situation. Harvey wasn't the only person who liked doing things like this. This little cop was lucky he'd run into Harvey instead of into some guy who'd actually kill him.

Putting his fingers up to the kid's throat, Harvey felt for a pulse. He hoped the officer had only passed out and wasn't actually dead. Harvey had beaten him up pretty badly. He didn't think it was enough to kill him though. He hadn't hit the boy on the head. On the cheek once, yes, but not that hard. He didn't pass out from concussion - probably just pain and exhaustion. And fortunately, Harvey was right. The boy's pulse was there. It was even strong. In fact, his heart was beating a mile a minute.

Harvey brought his hand back up to the boy's cheek and caressed the skin there. The kid's skin was soft. That was one of the things he liked about younger people. They didn't typically have the flaws that people his own age had. He wondered how old this kid actually was. Harvey would have guessed seventeen when he'd picked him up, but if he was really a cop, he couldn't have been so young. Must be in his early twenties...

He ran his other hand down the young man's chest, stopping briefly to feel his pounding heart. He wished he had more time. He shouldn't have assumed the kid was subdued enough before... He should have seen it in this boy's eyes that he was still going to fight. If Harvey had judged the kid better, he'd still have all the time in the the world to do whatever he wanted to him. It was really a shame, because Harvey had been so excited about this one...

Now there wasn't time to try to drag the officer out of here and back to Harvey's vehicle, and he certainly had no other place to go... He'd just have to have whatever fun he could before the cops got here...

At this point, Harvey's hands were back on the boy's thighs, resting on top of the thin material of boxer shorts. In all the commotion, the officer hadn't found the time or opportunity to pull his pants back up completely or to button them. The older man frowned. He wasn't going to have enough time to do everything he wanted to... And he certainly didn't want to be caught exposed by the other cops... It was one thing to let some street scum see him like that, but a bunch of cops? No way...

So instead, he ran his hands back up the younger man's legs and up under his shirt. His skin felt somewhat cold. Probably because he had been standing around outside all day, and because the apartment wasn't heated; Harvey didn't want to bother paying for heat when he hardly ever came here.

As the older man continued straddling the police officer, he heard a small moan and felt a shudder go through the other man's body. Harvey drew his focus up to the boy's face. His eyebrows were knitted in worry and his facial expression looked pained. The older man could see the kid's eyelids just barely fluttering as though he was struggling to wake up. Harvey knew the little guy couldn't have stayed out long. He wasn't in a coma or anything. He'd just fainted for a second. No one ever stayed knocked out long unless they had serious head trauma or were actually asleep.

"Stop," he heard a soft mumble from beneath him and felt the kid's hands pushing weakly at his chest, "get off me..." His eyes were still closed. It wasn't clear weather he was talking in his sleep, or was awake and was just too exhausted to bother opening his eyes.

"Looks like your friends aren't coming," Harvey mocked, "maybe you got the address wrong," he laughed. He knew the boy had the address right, and that the other cops would be here in no time, but messing with the younger man was still entertaining.

The boy whimpered and finally pulled his eyes open. He looked scared. It was a look Harvey had seen on boys like him before. The kid looked around himself frantically and then focused back on the older man hovering over him. He was probably wondering where his gun had gotten to.

Harvey's hands were still on the boy's stomach. He was moving his thumbs back and forth, slowly caressing the young man's skin under his shirt. It almost seemed the younger man hadn't even noticed.

When the officer finally moved his hands to grab at Harvey's, the older man grabbed both of the boy's wrists in one of his larger hands. He smashed them up against the kid's collarbone and held them there firmly so he couldn't move.

The boy struggled to pull his hands free but was unsuccessful, "let me go!" he finally screamed as he kicked out as best as he could under the older man's weight and groaned in frustration at his failure to free himself.

Harvey just laughed as he dragged his free hand down the kid's chest and to the waistband of his boxers, slipping his fingers just barely under the fabric and appreciating the officer's sharp intake of breath and the fact that he tried to flinch away. He kept his eyes on the boy's face, watching his dark eyes widen in fear as they looked downward to see what Harvey's hands were up to.

As the older man pushed his fingers down further into the boy's shorts, he felt the officer pulling desperately to free his hands from the older man's grip and could feel the boy trying with futility to move his body out of Harvey's reach. He could hear a small choked whimper escape the boy's throat as the younger man continued to struggle, "stop," he pleaded again, "please!" His voice sounded pained, and he probably was hurting pretty badly. But Harvey didn't care.

"Why don't you tell me this," Harvey started, "what program do they have you working in where they're willing to send you out onto the streets to work dangerous undercover jobs all alone?" He caressed the skin under the boy's boxers, near his hip bone as he spoke.

A pathetic-sounding whimper escaped the boy's throat as he tried again to wriggle his hands free of Harvey's grasp, "you're only going to get yourself in more trouble by not letting me go," the boy hissed in a pained voice. He proceeded to intake a few more shaking breaths, "my backup will be here any minute," he threatened.

Harvey laughed. Keeping his hand in the kid's shorts, he ran his fingers away from the officer's groin and up over his thigh, as far as he could go before the boy's position against the wall prevented him from going any further.

He intended to take this little game as far as time allowed, but time seemed to be running out. Harvey could hear footfalls on the steps leading up to the apartment (its front door was near the stairs.) At this point, Harvey knew his fun was nearing an end, and it had really hardly even begun this time. He felt his heart picking up pace as he wondered still what he was going to end up doing. He'd never gone to prison before, and he wasn't sure if he was going to let the cops take him in easily or not... In a way, it seemed like it would be a wiser choice to just go along with them, get a lawyer, and settle for being charged with trying to buy a whore and assaulting a police officer... How bad of a sentence would that be? But what if they charged him for the other boys too? He didn't feel like he did much wrong... They were prostitutes, after all... they were literally asking for it... But since they were underage, the cops would see it differently.

Keeping his one hand on the boy's arms to hold him back, Harvey reached back behind himself and grabbed the officer's gun, bringing it into the kid's view. Harvey still wasn't sure if he was going to use it, but it was nice to know he had the option.

The young cop's eyes widened even more than they already had been when Harvey brought the gun into his line of vision. He probably thought he was seconds away from going to sleep for good. Harvey liked seeing the young man's frightened expression, and enjoyed the fact that the officer's body was still trembling beneath him. As much as he would have liked to toy with the kid for a little longer, there just wasn't time.

Harvey stared down at the boy as he evaluated his options one last time. He wasn't sure if he'd put up a fight against the other police officers or not. Realistically he knew he wasn't going to get out of this a free man. He was going to be arrested no matter what. But he could extend his time a little longer if he was willing to add a couple murders to his list of crimes. How many other cops were coming? Did he have enough bullets for all of them? It was very likely they may have summoned much more backup than they needed. Cops seemed to take better care of their own than regular people... He supposed only time would tell what he'd do when the other police officers got there...

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	4. Chapter 4

_**Hello everyone. Thanks for continuing to read this story, for being patient with my slow updates, and for all of your reviews. I didn't reply individually to your reviews this time... I don't want to be annoying and keep flooding your inboxes with "thanks for reading!" messages... but I do really appreciate the reviews, so thank you all so much. :)**_

_**Someone reviewed my previous chapter asking why Harvey didn't leave when he knew the cops were coming. I think he figured since they knew his name (because they knew his second apartment's address) he knew they'd find him soon one way or another. He also seems somewhat well off financially (being able to buy a second apartment and all...) so he can probably afford a good lawyer, and may be thinking he might be able to get away with all of this without much punishment. Running from the cops would have just been another charge to add to the list. I know I basically created this character, since he wasn't really in the episode much, but I can still only guess at what he's thinking... People in general are freaking weird. I don't understand any of them.**_

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Chapter4

Doug's heart pounded in his chest as he made his way up the stairs of the run-down apartment building. Taking two steps at a time, he was up them twice as fast as Judy, who followed behind him as close as she could. They were both worried for their friend, of course. Tom had a habit of taking his cases too far, trying too hard at the expense of his own safety or health, but even so, it still terrified Doug each time his partner was in danger. One of these days, they weren't going to get there in time. He just hoped today wasn't going to be that day.

The two officers had been radioed by Ioki not too long ago. Fuller had relayed a message to Harry, who told Doug and Judy that Hanson needed backup, that the younger officer had found their suspect and needed help bringing him in. But Ioki also implied that Hanson might be hurt, and that they should try to get there as soon as possible.

Fortunately, Penhall and Hoffs had already been somewhat nearby, but it still seemed too far as they made their way over to the address. Doug hated knowing one of his friends was in danger, and he couldn't move fast enough.

As they reached the door to apartment twenty-six, Doug drew his gun and glanced back at Judy, making sure she was prepared to back him up as they entered the premises.

Surprisingly, the apartment's door was unlocked. Penhall didn't waste time dwelling on his gratefulness to that. Instead, he swung the door open and charged in, immediately noticing an older-looking man stooped down, hovering over Hanson, who was sitting on the floor with his back leaning against the wall.

"Police!" Penhall announced his presence, "Back away from him," Doug ordered, "hands up where I can see them. You have any weapons?" the officer barked as he kept his gun trained on the older man who slowly rose to his feet, "do you have any weapons!?" Doug yelled again after giving the man about a half-second to answer. He wasn't in the patient mood right now.

"No," the suspect shook his head as he turned to face the two officers, "your friend's gun is over on the floor," he gestured down toward Tom. Sure enough, Hanson's gun lay a few feet away from him. The suspect put his hands back in the air and raised his eyebrow at Doug, as if he were waiting on the officer to say or do something more.

Doug kept his gun trained on the older man as Judy holstered her gun and pulled out her handcuffs. She made her way over to the man, "turn around," she instructed. She didn't sound nearly as friendly and understanding as usual. In most case, Judy could be almost too nice to their suspects. Sometimes even if they had murdered someone, she'd act like she was their mother or something, letting them explain themselves and seeming genuinely interested to hear their rationales for their crimes. But not this guy. She regarded him like he was the scum of the earth. Judy didn't seem at all willing to hear this guy out. She wasn't gentle with the suspect either, as she pushed him forward against the wall, frisked him, and slapped the cuffs on him roughly. She recited his rights in a quick, rushed manner as she held him firmly against the wall.

Meanwhile, Penhall went to Hanson's aid, squatting down next to him and looking him over, "you alright, Tom?" Doug asked in a voice as gentle as he could manage. His partner didn't look well. Hanson had a cut and bruise on his cheek, and looked quite exhausted and out of breath. His breathing sounded frantic and pained, and his facial expression matched. The younger officer's eyes looked tired as he focused on the man squatting in front of him, "Fuller radioed and said he'd send an ambulance. I think Ioki and Fuller are both on their way over here," Penhall wasn't sure if Hanson cared about all these details, but he wanted his partner to know what was going on.

Tom breathed out a shaking breath and nodded, "I'm okay," he managed to say in an out-of-breath voice, but he still didn't look well. His eyes looked tired and unfocused, and the way his body just lay there, mostly limp, was unsettling. He didn't look like he was even contemplating standing up and leaving the apartment on his own. The younger officer's arms lie unmoving, one at his side, and the other on his lap. And his head was leaned back and resting against the wall. He looked like it was all he could do to even keep himself upright.

Doug put his hand softly against his partner's cheek and looked him in the eyes, "what did he do to you?" Penhall asked in a soft voice.

Tom shook his head, "he had a stick... a uh..." he shook his head again and closed his eyes as if he were trying to find the proper words, "like a... you know... A baton."

Penhall winced. He knew what this suspect had done to his other victims, and could make a good guess as to why Tom seemed so hurt right now, but he kept silent and let his partner continue to explain.

"He hit me with it," Tom frowned, "over and over."

"Where?" Penhall asked, trying to look his partner over for injuries. The younger officer's clothing covered most of his skin, so any injuries he had that weren't on his face would be hard to find.

"All over," Hanson sighed, "my arms, back, ribs, legs... Once on my cheek, but you can probably see that," he pouted up at his partner.

Doug put his hand lightly on Tom's shoulder, "are you okay to stay up here for a minute so I can walk with Hoffs down to the car?"

Tom nodded.

"You got him, Judy?" Doug looked over at the other officer.

"Yeah," Hoffs sounded and looked angry. All of the young cops who worked together at the chapel were good friends. Any time anyone hurt any one of them, every single other took it very personally. Hoffs was likely just as angry at this man as Doug was. Well, maybe not exactly... Doug considered Tom his best friend, and felt protective over him, just as though Tom were the younger brother he'd never had but always wanted... But they were all kind of best friends with each other on some level, and they all pretty much behaved as siblings would, arguing over little things, but caring more about each other than anyone else in the world.

Doug squeezed Tom's shoulder reassuringly and then stood, "I'll be right back," he promised. As much as he didn't want to leave Hanson alone in the younger man's current condition, he didn't want to leave Hoffs alone with the suspect either. The last thing they needed was for this pervert to overpower Judy and get away so he could hurt someone else.

As quickly as they could manage, Penhall and Hoffs took their suspect downstairs and placed him in the back of their police car. Fortunately, the old man didn't fight with them. In fact, he didn't say or do anything but allow them to push him into the back seat of the car. He must have known that anything he said now would just incriminate him further... Or maybe he'd been in legal trouble before and knew the drill. Doug hoped he didn't have some sly lawyer who could somehow get him out of this. He'd dealt with suspects before who seemed to allow themselves to be arrested too easily, and sometimes their lawyers patched everything up for them pretty neatly. Doug hoped this man wouldn't be one of those sorts... He'd at least be charged with what he did to Hanson, but that might not put him away for long. There wasn't much Penhall could do to control that though. The law worked itself out, sometimes for the better and sometimes for the worse.

"You okay to stay down here alone?" Penhall asked, glancing down at Hoffs. He knew the man wouldn't be able to escape the car easily, and he knew more back up would be arriving soon. As much as he didn't like the idea of leaving Judy alone down here, even with the suspect locked in the car, Doug was also itching to get back upstairs and make sure his partner was okay.

"I'll be fine," Judy offered a sympathetic smile, "go ahead and get back up there," she nodded toward the apartment building's main door, "make sure he's alright." Doug could see she was worried about Tom too.

Doug nodded at her, "I'll see if I can get him downstairs. Otherwise just send the paramedics up when they get here," he instructed as he turned and made his way back upstairs, taking two steps at a time.

When he walked back into the apartment, he was greeted by Tom's still-exhausted looking eyes staring up at him. Even though the younger officer looked tired and hurt, he had an expression of relief on his face. Hanson was still slumped against the wall as if moving even an inch was impossible for him. Penhall made his way back over to the younger man and squatted down in front of him again, "Do you think you can stand up and walk downstairs with me?" Penhall asked in a voice as gentle as he could manage.

Tom breathed out a pained sounding sigh and moved his hands down to the floor to push himself up. Doug grabbed his arms and helped him into a standing position.

"If you're in too much pain, it's okay," Doug assured him, feeling like Hanson may have been pushing himself too hard at this point, "I was just asking you if you thought you could... If it's too much, just say so. I won't want you to hurt yourself. We can have the paramedics meet us up here if you'd like."

Hanson shook his head, "I don't need a paramedic," he insisted, but with every tiny move the officer made, he grimaced and winced in pain.

Penhall frowned. The whimpers his partner was trying so hard to suppress gave away just how much he was hurting. It seemed to be all the younger officer could do to keep himself from crying, "come on, man," Doug offered, easily forcing his partner toward the bed on the other side of the room and sitting him down, "Judy's gonna send the paramedics up here, okay?"

When Doug brought his focus back to his partner's face, he noticed Tom's eyes looked wide and scared, but the younger cop didn't say anything.

"You okay?" Doug asked, sitting down next to Hanson and putting his arm gently around his partner's shoulders. He could feel Tom's shoulders lowering as the younger man tried to shrink down, presumably away from Doug's touch. Penhall pulled his arm away from its position around his partner's shoulders. He'd meant to comfort his friend, not make him feel worse. So instead of wrapping his whole arm around the other officer, Doug settled on just putting his hand on Tom's shoulder, squeezing it very lightly, "it shouldn't be long now," Doug informed Hanson, "I know you're in a lot of pain right now, but it won't last forever. You're going to be alright."

Tom breathed out a shaking breath. He still looked scared and was shaking slightly. For a moment he remained silent, his eyes settling on Doug's hand and then running up his arm and to his face. Tom's wide, dark eyes stared into Doug's until what looked like fear melted out of the younger man's eyes and was replaced with recognition "I know," he breathed tiredly, closing his eyes and leaning his head against his partner's shoulder.

Penhall frowned. It had almost seemed for a moment like Tom was afraid of Doug. Maybe he had been thinking about what could have been happening to him right now if Doug and Judy hadn't arrived. Or maybe was was reliving what did happen, his mind not quite present, yet not really too far away either. He noticed Tom's jeans weren't pulled up where they should have been.

"Did he do anything else to you, Tommy?" Doug felt fear in his heart as he asked. He knew their suspect did more to his victims than just beating them up. Doug hoped his partner had only been beaten, "you can tell me..." he added in a soft voice. He didn't want to hear that something like that had happened to his best friend, but if it did happen, Doug wanted to be there to help him through it.

Hanson straightened his composure a bit and shook his head, "No... But I think he would have," he whispered as he stared ahead again, presumably at nothing. Doug could see tears in his partner's eyes, "well... I _know_ he would have..." he added, "if I hadn't gotten away and called Fuller..." Tom couldn't bring himself to finish that sentence.

"You're okay," Doug assured him, wrapping his arms around his Tom's trembling frame, hugging him, and rubbing his back gently. He was happy to find Tom didn't shrink away this time. Penhall wanted to hold his partner close, but didn't want to squeeze him too tightly, as he knew Tom's body was very likely heavily bruised and hurt. If their suspect really had hit him with that baton over and over, Hanson probably had broken bones, fractures, or at the very least, horribly painful bruises. Doug could hear sirens approaching, "Hear that?" he whispered with a calming tone in his voice as he continued rubbing gentle circles between his partner's shoulder blades, "the ambulance is almost here," he smiled.

He felt Hanson's body relaxing slightly in his arms. The younger officer must not have been as confident as he'd suggested. Tom knew he needed to go to the hospital; he must have just wanted to appear strong, but Doug could tell he was extremely relieved to know the ambulance was almost here, "let's meet them down stairs," Tom suggested, pulling himself out of Doug's embrace. Hanson's movements were weak, and Doug could have easily forced his partner to stay in his embrace. In fact, he almost wanted to, to prevent Tom from moving too much in his injured state, but instead Doug moved his arms and let Hanson move freely. Tom winced as he forced himself to stand.

"Are you sure you're okay to walk?" Doug asked as he quickly pulled himself up off the mattress to stand next to his injured partner, "they can come up here. It's no problem. I know you're in a lot of pain..."

"I don't want to sit up here any longer than I already have," Tom stared at him with a pained look in his eyes, "please just help me get down stairs?"

Doug frowned. He would have preferred that his partner stay up here so he wouldn't injure himself any further, but it looked like Hanson was going to get himself downstairs with or without the help of his partner, "fine," Doug agreed. He glanced down again, remembering that Tom's pants were still pulled half-way down his legs, "I'm going to help you with your pants, alright?" he offered. He knew Hanson probably wouldn't want to walk downstairs with his clothing falling off his body, but he also wanted to give Tom fair warning before moving to perform this favor.

Tom nodded, putting his hands on Doug's arms and gripping his shirt sleeves to help him keep his balance and to prevent himself from falling.

Doug carefully pulled the jeans upward, buttoned them, and zipped them up.

"Thanks, Doug," Tom still gripped Doug's sleeves tightly as he glanced down and watched Doug's movements carefully, "I don't..." he paused and stumbled a bit closer to Doug, "I'm not sure if I can make it downstairs..." he sounded frustrated and tired, "he hit me so many times... My entire body hurts..."

Penhall frowned, "why don't we just sit back down?" he suggested, pulling Tom back down onto the bed and sitting next to him. He knew Tom didn't want to spend any more time in this room, but he didn't want him trying to walk while he was already injured and making it worse. His long-term health was more important than his short-term comfort, "the paramedics should be here in no-time," Doug offered.

"That's the baton," Tom pointed toward a table next to the bed, "probably the same one he used to beat those kids nearly to death too."

Doug looked over where Tom was pointing and nodded his head, "we'll get it into evidence... Don't worry about the case right now," he suggested. His partner was leaning heavily against him and seemed like he was quite close to losing consciousness, "Judy and I can look through this place later. We'll make sure that creep doesn't get away with any of the stuff he's done," Doug assured him, "We've got more than enough evidence to convict him now. So don't you worry. We'll take care of it. You just worry about feeling better for now."

Hanson frowned, "I was so stupid to let him take me here all alone... I wanted so much to make sure I trapped him doing something incriminating... I didn't want to mess up the case and arrest him without solid evidence... I tried to time it right... It's not like I could have brought backup... I just didn't have this organized at all as well as I should have," Tom's voice was quiet as he spoke, "I hope Fuller's not too mad."

"You're right, Tommy," Doug looked down at his partner, "it was stupid of you to go with this guy all by yourself. None of us even knew where you were..." Penhall felt so conflicted. Tom's actions had caught their suspect, but this could have turned out way worse, and even right now it hadn't turned out the way they'd wanted, "you found the guy, and you didn't let him get away... and that's good... but you put yourself into such a dangerous situation..."

"I know," Tom pouted.

"He could have killed you," Penhall continued. He didn't want to make his partner feel any worse than he already did, but he cared about Tom so much; Tom was like a little brother to him, and knowing how dangerous of a situation he had gotten himself into made Doug angry and scared. Hanson needed to realize where he'd messed up so he could make sure to never do it again, "He's hurt other people pretty bad; he could have killed you even if he'd done it on accident by hitting you too many times... and he would have done terrible things to you if you hadn't gotten to the phone and called Fuller when you did. I know you're really hurting right now, but you're actually so lucky it's not even worse," Doug knew he was being harsh, but it just made him sick thinking about the awful things this man could have... and _would have_ done to his partner if he'd had the chance, "he raped those boys, Tom..."

"I know that, Doug. I'm working on the same case you are," Hanson sounded a bit angry now as he stared up at Doug with his wide, dark eyes, "what do you think he was trying to do before you got here?"

Doug stared at his partner as he heard footsteps entering the room. It was the paramedics. Penhall didn't even have to look to know it was them. He kept his gaze on Tom, who was looking more and more exhausted by the second, "you've got to tell me what exactly happened here... and what exactly he did to you, Tom..." Doug demanded, trying to keep his worried voice calm and gentle enough to not make his partner feel any more stressed than he already did.

Tom shook his head, "I will," he mumbled as his shoulders slumped slightly. His eyes weren't so focused anymore, "later..." he added in a faint whisper. Doug could see Tom was ready to pass out again, and that's exactly what he did as the paramedics rushed to his side.

Doug laid Tom back on the bed gently as the paramedics approached. He stared down at his partner, hoping he was alright, but he knew the paramedics were better equipped to deal with this than he was...

"Stand back, sir," one of them ordered Penhall.

But Penhall felt he had information relevant to his partner's treatment, "he was beaten with a baton," Doug informed them, "he said the guy hit him with it all over his body. You should check for broken, fractured, or bruised ribs, and for additional bruising and internal bleeding," he offered.

"Thank you, Officer," one of the paramedics offered a sympathetic-looking smile as she shoved him lightly to the side, "we've got it under control."

"I'm coming with you in the ambulance," Doug insisted as the paramedics looked his partner over. No one objected, so as soon as Hanson was strapped down onto a gurney, Doug followed them downstairs and hopped into the back of the ambulance.

There wasn't much Penhall could do to help his partner at this point. The least he could do was to make sure he'd be there when Tom woke up.

**_xxxxxx_**

**_Only one chapter left. :)  
_**


	5. Chapter 5

_**Hi. Sorry for taking nearly a month to finally post this last chapter. Only a couple people reviewed the last one, so I figured most people didn't really care about the ending. Your lack of caring also made me not care, but since I had the last chapter finished (but not edited) this whole time, I finally decided to just read through it, correct errors, and post it. **_

_**I do still appreciate the reviews I did get though. :) So thank you, reviewers... My motivation just was sucked away from me, into a black hole, never to be seen again... I still don't feel like editing this and posting it... but I'm going to do it anyway, just so I can click the "finished" option on it. Or "complete..." whatever it says. **_

_**Here you go:**_

_**xxxxxx**_

**Chapter5**

Doug sighed loudly as he sat in the hospital's waiting room. Balanced on his knees was a fairly large teddy bear which he'd picked up at the gift shop during one of his moments of extreme unwillingness to just sit still and wait. Waiting was never something Doug felt comfortable doing, and in instances like these, it was even worse than usual. He wanted to know what was going on. He wanted to know that his partner was going to be alright. Not being given any answers was driving him crazy.

On the way to the hospital, Tom had been in and out of consciousness in the ambulance. His vitals remained strong enough, and the paramedics assured Penhall that Hanson would be fine, and that he mostly just needed rest and pain killers, but Doug was still worried.

During Tom's few moments of consciousness in the ambulance on the way over here, the younger officer had seemed so disoriented and frightened. Hanson had pushed the paramedic's hands away from him and had pleaded with the man not to touch him and to let him go, even though all the medic was doing was looking Tom over for significant injuries. Doug knew his partner wasn't usually so defensive and hoped he was only lashing out due to being half asleep and overly paranoid and not from being horribly traumatized. Penhall still didn't know the extent of what Harvey did to his partner...

There hadn't been much Doug could do to put his partner at ease during the ride to the hospital, but he did try his hardest and offered what little comfort he could to the younger officer. Penhall had moved closer to Tom, grabbing his partner's hand in his own, informing him they were in an ambulance on the way to the hospital, and assuring him everything was going to be alright. Hanson had just stared at him for a moment, seeming concerned, and ultimately telling Doug he looked tired before finally passing out again.

Now all Doug could do was sit and wait until the hospital staff would allow him to visit Hanson's room. Until he saw Hanson for himself, and talked to him, and judged with his own eyes and ears that his partner was okay, Doug was not going to stop being worried.

He stared into the round eyes of the teddy bear on his lap. They were shiny and he could just barely see the skewed reflection of his own face in the mirror-like surface of the orbs. He wondered if Tom would think the bear was funny. That was Doug's intention. He wanted to lighten the serious tone of the situation somehow.

"He's gonna be fine, you know," Judy's calming voice stated beside him. He felt her put her hand lightly on his shoulder, "Tommy's a tough guy. You don't have any reason to be worried."

He and Judy were the only two members of the Jump Street squad here right now. The others had elected to stay behind and help process the crime scene. Fuller had noted that they probably wouldn't allow more than one visitor in to see Tom at a time anyway, so having them all go at once would be pointless. He must have had more confidence that Tom would be alright than Doug had. They'd phoned Tom's mother too, telling her Hanson was at the hospital, but not giving her too much detail on what had happened. She was out of town and therefore unable to make it to see her son today. They didn't want to worry her, or tell her more than Tom would want her to know, so they kept their explanation short and concise and she let them know she was booking a flight back home as soon as possible.

Doug shifted his gaze over to Hoffs. She sounded calm enough, but her eyes certainly looked just as worried as Doug felt, "I know," he frowned. He was fairly confident Tom would be alright, but there was always that hint of doubt in the back of his mind. Maybe he'd been hurt even worse than it seemed... Maybe some complication would arise...

Just then, a nurse walked into the room, "Doug Penhall?" she asked, looking over at him. He and Judy were the only two people in the waiting room at the moment.

"Yeah?" Doug felt his heart beat increasing in rate. He always hated being in hospital waiting rooms. Every time a nurse or doctor walked in and called his name, he feared the worst. He could just imagine this woman telling him something had gone horribly wrong.

"Tom's asking to see you," the nurse smiled.

Doug exhaled a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, "he's awake?" he asked, "is he alright?"

"He's fine," the nurse assured him, "he asked for us to bring you back. We'll let you see him next," she looked toward Judy.

"Thanks," Judy smiled back. Doug could tell she too was incredibly relieved to know that Tom was awake and well enough to be requesting to see his friends.

"Right this way," the nurse offered as Penhall stood and followed her down the hall.

... ... ... ...

When Doug entered Tom's hospital room, he was happy to see Tom sitting up in bed and looking a bit better than he had before. Of course, his bruises were all still visible, and he was covered in a few bandages here and there, but he didn't look as exhausted as before, didn't look like he was seconds away from fainting, and he didn't look like he was in so much pain anymore. He was likely dosed up on pain killers by now.

"Hey, Tommy," Doug offered a sympathetic smile as he walked slowly into the room and over toward the bed where Hanson was lying. He was so glad to see his partner looking less defeated, but still wondered if Tom was completely okay, both physically and mentally. He knew Hanson must have been terrified, and would probably still be upset about what happened... And Doug didn't even _know_ for sure what all had happened. That worried him even more.

"Hi, Doug," Tom responded, smiling back up at Penhall.

Penhall exhaled, "I uh... got you a bear," he smiled a crooked smile and handed the stuffed toy over to his partner.

Hanson smiled as he reached out and took the bear. He looked at it for a moment as Doug continued to look at him. Tom really did look amused by the stuffed animal. His facial expression looked much more happy than usual... Tom had a habit of worrying over things too much, so it wasn't often that he smiled like that. Maybe it was the morphine making him less stressed... Doug kept his gaze on his partner as Tom's dark eyes looked away from the bear and back up at him, "Thanks, Penhall," he grinned.

"No problem," Penhall shrugged, "thought it might cheer you up."

Tom nodded and placed the bear next to himself. It was positioned as if it were lying in the bed too, except it wasn't under the sheets like Hanson was.

"So, what's the prognosis?" Doug wondered, "you alright now? Was anything broken?" He looked Tom over as he asked this. He could see there were finger splints on two of Hanson's fingers, and it had certainly seemed to take ages before the nurse had allowed him to come back here. The doctors probably had a lot of work to do on Tom, and that work likely included taking x-rays and mending broken bones.

"Really, it's mostly just bruises," Tom shrugged, "it probably looks a lot worse than it really is... He was just one guy... How much damage can one guy do? It's not like I was in a huge car accident or anything. In fact, I really don't even need to stay here. The doctors are being overly cautious."

Penhall frowned and continued looking down at his partner, silently demanding that he elaborate and actually answer the question.

Tom sighed, "I've got a few broken fingers, a few cracked ribs, and a bunch of bruises. Nothing serious," he explained, "I've had a lot worse, and so have you, so you don't need to look so worried."

"What exactly happened?" Doug wondered as he pulled up a chair close to Tom's bed and sat down. Tom had promised he'd explain it all to Doug later, and it was later now...

"It's probably pretty easy to guess," Tom frowned, "I got into the car with him because I didn't know if I could arrest him any other way... I didn't want him to drive off, and I was armed, so I thought I had it under control."

Doug nodded as he listened. He wanted to remind Hanson that getting into the car with this guy had been a terrible idea, but he didn't want to make Tom feel any worse about this than he already did. Tom already knew he made some key mistakes in going after this guy, so Doug kept his mouth shut for now as he let Hanson continue to explain.

"I waited until he was across the room and then I turned my back on him," Tom continued. He looked apprehensively at Doug, as if he expected his partner to yell at him and call him an idiot, and then continued to explain himself with a nervous tone in his voice, "I wanted him to try something, so we'd have evidence against him. Just knowing what his car looked like didn't seem to be enough of a connection between him and the others... So I was trying to trick him into trying something, but I didn't time it right. He got that baton from somewhere, and once he had it, he moved fast. He hit me with it over and over before I could do anything to stop him. I couldn't really fight back, because when I tried, he just hit me again. That's why my fingers are broken; I was trying to get the baton away from him."

Doug shook his head, "that was a really dangerous position to put yourself into, Tom," he frowned.

"I know," Tom frowned as well, "but if I just arrested him for soliciting sex, he could have said he knew I was an adult and he'd barely get in trouble at all... I had to find something to link him to the others. Maybe it wasn't a solid plan, but I can't change anything now..."

"Then what happened?" Doug asked. He hoped he wasn't pushing Hanson too hard, but he really wanted to know that Tom was alright, both physically and emotionally.

"Well, when he first hit me he knocked my gun out of my hand. And I'm pretty sure he didn't know I even had a gun at that point, so it just lay on the floor in the corner for a few minutes. He kept hitting me, and I fought with him, and eventually I made it back over to the gun, which is when I finally got the chance to call Fuller," Tom explained, "but then I guess I passed out, because I woke up and he was on top of me again."

Doug grimaced, "on top of you?"

Tom shook his head and shrugged, "it's no big deal. Nothing happened. You guys got there in time. He didn't have enough time to do anything too bad."

Penhall couldn't help but frown. Tom was so good at hiding his emotions from his friends. Doug had seen his partner's condition when Penhall and Hoffs had finally arrived at the apartment building. Tom had to have been terrified during that disgusting man's assault on him, yet he refused to acknowledge that, not out loud anyway.

Of course, Doug didn't want to try to force Tom to talk about this if he didn't want to, but he did wish his partner would voice any concerns or fears he had. If Hanson felt upset about this, Doug wanted to be the one to help him through it.

"I'm okay, Doug," Tom must have been able to read Doug's thoughts through his facial expression, "you don't have to be worried about me. I'm fine. I made a mistake going off with him alone. I know that. And I know you want to tell me I was stupid, but you don't want to be mean. I was stupid. I admit it. I could have gotten myself killed, or almost killed and dumped in an alley somewhere, and then the suspect would have gotten away with everything."

Doug shook his head, "it's not about him getting away with everything... Of course, we wanted to catch him, but your safety is more important."

"Is it?" Hanson frowned, "so those kids can get raped and beaten, and the guy can just get away with it as long as I don't risk anything to catch him? I'm more important than they are?"

"You are to me," Doug glared at him, "we all put ourselves in danger to put creeps like that in prison. We do it all the time; it's part of the job, but there's a limit to how much danger you should be willing to put yourself into. A little bit of a risk is unavoidable, but you've got to know when to say when. When you're undercover as a prostitute, don't actually get into some guy's car and let him take you home with him... I know you want to do whatever you can to help these kids, but you're no good to them if you're dead. Keeping yourself alive should be your top priority. How do you expect to make a difference in this world if you're not in it? You jump into every dangerous situation you can, and one day you're not going to be able to get yourself out of it."

Tom sighed, leaned back heavily into the pillow on his bed, and closed his eyes. Doug couldn't help but feel he was being too harsh, but if Tom wasn't already aware of all of this, he needed to become aware of it.

"This is my fault too," Doug admitted. Tom shouldn't have been left on that street all alone. If Doug had been there, he wouldn't have let Tom get into that guy's car, "I should have been keeping an eye on what you were doing. You're my partner..."

Hanson was facing toward him again now, and he looked a bit angry, "you were working with Hoffs, Doug... What did you expect yourself to do? Keep an eye on everyone at the same time? Fuller assigned you to work with Hoffs, not me, so you had no obligation to watch out for whatever I was doing."

"Then Booker or somebody should have been paying attention," Doug frowned.

Tom shook his head, "let's stop trying to assign blame for a minute," he suggested, "Fuller told us not to do anything stupid, and I didn't listen. It's no one's fault but my own. We had to keep things believable... If we were all standing around together, the suspect wouldn't have approached us at all... but it doesn't matter now. I'm fine. The suspect is in custody. Everything worked out."

"It worked out this time," Penhall stared at him.

"I'm going to get enough of this from Fuller," Hanson pouted, "I already know what I did wrong, and Fuller's going to repeat all of it... You don't have to lecture me."

"You're right," Doug agreed, "I'll shut up..."As much as he wanted to carry on with this conversation and make sure Hanson wouldn't do something like this again, he knew dwelling on it was only going to make Hanson more upset.

Penhall watched his partner as the younger officer grabbed the bear Penhall had brought. Tom hugged the bear in his arms, but didn't seem to be paying attention to what his arms were doing. He was staring past Doug and looked like he was deep in thought, "you alright?" Doug frowned.

Tom nodded slowly but his eyes still stared at the wall. His eyebrows were knitted a bit with worry and he was chewing absent-mindedly at his lower lip.

"What's wrong, Tommy?" Doug asked, reaching over and putting his hand lightly on his partner's shoulder.

The physical contact was enough to bring Hanson back to the present. He finally looked at Doug instead of past his shoulder at the wall. The younger man's dark eyes still looked concerned, "I didn't fear for my life, really," he started, "at least, I don't think I did..."

Doug nodded. That made sense. Their suspect's other victims hadn't actually been killed. But the guy could have still killed Tom by accident. Or maybe because Tom might have fought harder against him than the other boys had, or even just because he discovered Tom was actually a cop. That, and people like Harvey often slowly escalated in the severity of their crimes. Harvey probably started just looking at photos of the boys he liked, then started talking to them, then started paying them for sex, and eventually started raping and beating them. The next logical step would be to murder them, and Tommy could have easily been the poor boy who would have been Harvey's first murder victim. But Doug didn't want to mention this thought to Hanson. The younger officer had probably already considered it anyway... Instead, Doug just kept silent and continued looking down at his partner as he waited for Tom to continue speaking.

"But I was still really scared," Hanson's eyes shone a bit, and Doug could see the beginnings of tears there.

Penhall stood up and bent down over his partner, wrapping his arms around Tommy, who still clung to the stuffed bear Doug had given him, "I know you were," Doug frowned as he rubbed Tom's back gently.

"I had a plan and it completely backfired," Tom explained as he allowed Penhall to keep his arms wrapped around him, "I knew what this guy had done to those boys," his voice started to sound shaky, "and I knew he was going to do the same things to me... At first I couldn't believe it, and kept fighting, but eventually I couldn't do anything more, and just before you and Judy showed up, I thought no one was coming, and I couldn't fight back anymore. I could barely move, and I was certain he was going to do to me what he did to those boys..."

At this point, Doug could feel tears stinging his own eyes as well. He knew exactly what Tom was referring to. Hanson was referring to rape, but he didn't want to say it. Doug's poor partner had been beaten down so severely that he couldn't fight the man off. Tom had been certain he was going to be raped by their suspect, and he had been too weak to even have a chance at escaping. Penhall was so glad his partner hadn't suffered the same fate as the homeless boys had. He'd suffered through part of it, but not the worst part, "you're okay now," Doug assured him. Tom already knew this, but Doug didn't know for sure what else to say.

"How long do you think he kept those boys with him before he dumped them off?" Tom wondered.

Penhall shrugged, "I don't know. It seemed like he tried to get through it all pretty quickly. He did what he wanted to do, dumped them, and got out of there."

Tom was silent. He must have been thinking, because it took a few moments before he said anything else, "I guess he'd have probably been done with me by now," Penhall felt a shudder go through the younger officer's body. He knew Tommy was thinking about the fate he had narrowly avoided.

"Don't worry about what could have happened," Doug tried a different approach, "you messed up a little bit, but you thought fast and got to your gun and the phone... You got yourself out of there, and you're okay. There's no need to worry about what might have happened, because it didn't. You're okay now."

"It wasn't all me though," Tom pulled back from Doug a bit, "you and Judy are the reason I got out of there. You guys arrived just in time," his eyes were wide as he stared up at his partner's face.

Doug smiled, "well, as soon as we heard you were in trouble, we went into overdrive... I've never seen time fly so fast in my life. I can barely even remember driving over there. It all happened so fast. We even forgot the speed limit... We're lucky we didn't kill any pedestrians on our way over..."

"Judy let you drive?" Hanson looked skeptical.

Penhall laughed, understanding what his partner was implying, "Yeah... She probably would have driven a little more carefully. I think she's better at keeping calm than I am... because I literally do not remember the drive, and I was the one driving. Come to think of it, she was probably scared half to death just because of my driving. She hasn't mentioned it though..."

Tom smiled as well, raising one of his hands and wiping away the tears that had fallen onto his cheeks. Fortunately, he hadn't been full-on crying. Only a few tears had managed to make their way out of his eyes, and he seemed to have managed to calm down since then, "you'll probably get a call later about some pedestrians you ran over."

Doug laughed, "it's only a matter of time... I hope I didn't kill them at least," he joked. Normally, he wouldn't have let Hanson get away with making fun of his driving, but he didn't mind the so much jokes today.

Tom frowned, his tone immediately switching over from light-hearted to serious, "How about you guys... you and Judy... Are you alright? I hear this case was pretty tough on everyone."

Doug let out a nervous laugh. This case was indeed tough. It didn't matter that they were undercover and technically none of it was their real lives. It was still real for the time being, and seeing what those kids went through on a daily basis wasn't something he was just going to forget now that they were through with the case. For Doug and the other cops at Jump Street, this hellish case was done, over with. They could finally go back to their own houses, sleep in their own beds, and hopefully go back to pretending to be kids with homes, who showed up to school every day in clean clothing and having the luxury of being able to take daily showers. For the kids they'd worked with on this case, it was never over. This was their life, and to put it bluntly, it sucked.

Shaking his head, Doug focused back on his partner, who was staring at him with his wide, dark eyes, still waiting on an answer, "Judy and I are alright," Doug forced a smile, "I mean, it was rough, but it's over... Still sucks thinkin' about those kids though..."

Tom nodded in agreement, "yeah. It does suck," he repeated Doug's sentiment.

"But don't you worry about that right now," Doug changed the subject, "there's still room to try to help them, and I'm pretty sure not one of us is going to settle for this case being over just because Fuller says it is. If we can't get those kids off the street, we'll settle for making the street safer for them. There's always something we can do..."

Tom smiled a smile that actually looked genuine, "you're a good person, Doug. The best."

Penhall reached over and squeezed Tom's uninjured hand, "you too, man."

"Thanks for saving me," Hanson averted his eyes as though he were embarrassed, "and for not being too harsh about me being stupid... but for still acknowledging my stupidity. I know I was dumb, and I know you knew that, but I think I still needed someone to reinforce that fact."

"Any time, Tommy," Doug smiled, "you'd have done the same for me..."

Tom raised his eyebrow, "I do the same for you all the time."

"What, remind me I'm stupid?" Doug laughed.

"Yeah," Tom laughed as well.

"Guess we all need to be reminded sometimes," Penhall looked down at Tom. His partner's eyes seemed to have lost the edge of fear that had just barely been visible when Doug had walked into the room a few minutes before. He'd talked to Doug about what he'd gone though, and he seemed better for it. Tom knew he could talk to Doug about anything, and Doug was so happy that he chose to do so today, so he wouldn't have to deal with his fears all on his own. Of course no one was going to just forget about this case, about the homeless kids or about Harvey, but for now, Doug knew Tom was going to be alright.

They were all going to be alright, just like always.

_**THE END**_

**_xxxxxx_**

**_As usual, I didn't know how to end the story, and I'm not sure how I feel about my ending. I need to take some sort of class just on writing endings. I think I'm okay at beginnings and middles... Why can't I figure out endings? Maybe it's because the world doesn't really have endings, so I haven't really experienced one first hand... I've witnessed other people's though... But in my life, there's no such thing as the end... Only a temporary, sort of episodic conclusion._**


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